


take me with you (my love, you are something else)

by capebretons



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, World Cup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 07:36:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8392828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capebretons/pseuds/capebretons
Summary: "God, you're embarrassing," Jo lies, because he could never be embarrassed of something as beautiful, as wonderful, as Nathan MacKinnon."You love me," Nate grins, and Jo looks him right in the eye."I love you," Jo affirms, and Nate honestly blushes, because he was put on this planet to ruin Jo.(Or, Nate and Jo get some borrowed time at the World Cup.)





	

Jo knows that Nate loves him. And he knows that it's not, like, halfway done, with one foot in Colorado. He's  _ in  _ love with him. It's the kind of love where Nate texts him every single morning, with about four billion emojis, telling him about the dream he had last night, where he and Jo were married and living in Cancun together. It's like, sometimes when they're planning for Skype sex, Nate just stares at Jo, with his mouth half-open, gaping at Jo because he's  _ just so lucky.  _ Nate tells Jo that Jo is the most amazing person in the world every single day, so no, Jo doesn't doubt that Nate loves the shit out of him.

Of  _ course  _ Jo loves him right back. It's the kind of love borne out of quiet talks in the last row of the bus, driving from Halifax to Rimouski, with hands tangled under the sweatshirts in their laps. It's always been that way, since Nate first messaged him on Facebook, and Jo spent an embarrassing amount of time clicking through every picture on his profile. He's always been a little bit stupid for Nate, but ever since Nate kissed him in their shared hotel room in Quebec City back in juniors, he's allowed to be. 

That draft day had been the best and the worst, because they were smiling while they cried, and everything was bright and shiny and finally in reach, but Nate was already slipping through Jo's fingers, and Jo wasn't ready for him to. Jo wasn't ready.

"I just," he'd said, and his English never really came easily, but tonight it felt close to impossible. They were back in their hotel room, a little drunk off champagne and the draft, tangled together, clutching at every part of each other they could reach. "Please. Don't - don't leave me behind. I couldn't - please, Nate."

And Nate had looked so  _ hurt _ , hurt that Jo could have even thought that Colorado on the horizon meant Jo in the rearview. "What the fuck are you talking about?" His voice was hard, and Jo ducked his head into the crook of Nate's neck, so he didn't have to see that look in his eyes. "Jo, seriously?"

"I'm going to miss you so much," and Jo was near tears, but it was the champagne, mostly. (No, it wasn't.) " _ Fuck. _ "

"I'm not," Nate had started, and Jo could feel him thinking, could feel him picking each word carefully. He rushes, Nate does. He didn't want to rush this. "This isn't the end, Jo. Jo, it's... This is the beginning of everything. This is what we were meant for. I'm not quitting now." He'd pauses, and Jo had looked up from Nate's neck, and Nate had looked so fucking scared. "Are you?"

Jo's mouth had fallen open, and no words in either language could have successfully illustrated how fucking horrifying it would be, to live without Nate now. He'd been so spoiled with him, he knew he had - sharing beds on road trips, driving to school together every morning, playing beautiful hockey - and even though it wouldn't be the same, it wouldn't be like this again, he'd still have Nate.

So he crashed his mouth to Nate's, bit Nate's lower lip hard enough to draw blood, because Nate is  _ his _ , and they're not quitting now. They're not quitting now.

Jo remembered that kiss all through those months falling between Syracuse and Tampa, and he relied on Nate more than he ever had. Nate talked him down from a lot, and Jo's not really sure if there's a way for him to thank Nate for that. And things got better, after that. They did. Jo's grateful, and he knows he's lucky.

 

They grew up, those first few years, and when Worlds rolled around, it was nice to go back to the good days, with Nate screaming Jo's name from all the way down the bench, loud enough that Larkin turns to Nate and goes, "Dude, shut  _ up _ ," and it makes Jo stifle a laugh into his glove.

"You two are dating, right?" Saader asks in the locker room after that first win, sometime after Nate had put on a Gucci Mane song nobody knew except for Auston, sometime after Nate had pressed a kiss to Jo's temple and just said  _ proud _ , because that's all he needed to say.

"Uh," Jo says, and his eyes go to Nate, who's mouthing every word to this stupid song, who's yanking off his Under Armor by the back of the collar, and Jo gets this weird flash of him doing the same thing to Jo the night before. He looks back at Saad, and they're both a little red when Jo nods.

"That's cool," Saad says, looking back at Nate. "That makes sense."

"Yeah?" Jo smiles slightly, turning to his stick. Nate had taped it, just to prove he still knew how.

Brandon looks back at Jo, grinning slightly in that tilted, off-kilter kind of way. "He's kind of obsessed with you. He talks about you all the time."

"Ew," Jo wrinkles his nose, because Nate's gross, and Jo really fucking loves him.

Brandon laughs, then kind of floats over to Gibby and Coots, because this team is already so goddamn weird. And Jo's not alone for more than a second, because now Nate's there, already into a clean shirt and shorts, watching as Jo cuts the tape off the stick.

"But it was so pretty," Nate frowns as Jo tosses the balled-up tape into the trashcan. "I did so good."

"Yes, you're very smart," Jo grins, but he can't look at Nate right now, because he'll kiss him in front of the whole team if he does. It's just - he doesn't really get to see him like this anymore, sharing a locker room, and every single moment feels so precious.

"What were you and Saader talking about?" Nate asks, and there's an all-too-casual lilt to his voice, and Jo wants to laugh. Nate is so  _ dumb.  _ Jo is his forever and ever until the end of everything, and they've both known that since they were seventeen. 

"He asked me out, actually," Jo sighs, and now that his stick's all done, he starts taking off his gear. "Wanted to take me to this nice place in Columbus, and I was all like,  _ there are nice places in Columbus?  _ and he was like,  _ oh, baby, I'll show you all the nice places,  _ and then I said-" 

"Fuck you," Nate's laughing now, soft and fond.

Jo shoots him a grin, the one that he knows makes him look like he worships the ground Nate walks on, just so Nate knows he was kidding. "Nah. He knows we're together."

"Yeah, did Seth tell him?" Because of course Seth knows. The kid is intuitive.

Jo's grin widens. "Your best friend Seth Jones?"

Nate rolls his eyes. "Jo, shut up. You know he's not my best friend." And Jo's ready for the speech about how Jo's friendship is the most important thing in the world- "Sid would get so  _ sad  _ if he heard you say that."

Jo laughs. "He  _ would _ , though."

Nate sighs, long sufferingly. "He has such a big crush on me. You should watch out."

" _ Please _ ," Jo scoffs. "I could take Sidney Crosby."

Nate's eyebrows arch, which almost always means he's about to say something disgusting. "Would you let me watch?"

Jo makes an unbelievably loud gagging noise, and half the team turns to look at them, the half of the team that's not already used to how weird Jo and Nate are together. 

"You're so gross," Jo says. 

"I know," Nate says, and then he just stands and watches, hungry, as Jo takes off his Under Armor. He's so fucking shameless, he always has been. He used to leave massive hickeys on Jo's neck, Jo's thighs, just because. The first time Jo came to Colorado, they went to some Avalanche party, and Nate had pulled Jo into his lap and hadn't let him leave until it was time to go. (Jo loved it. Nate knew it.)

"God, you're embarrassing," Jo lies, because he could  _ never  _ be embarrassed of something as beautiful, as wonderful, as Nathan MacKinnon.

"You love me," Nate grins, and Jo looks him right in the eye.

"I love you," Jo affirms, and Nate honestly  _ blushes _ , because he was put on this planet to ruin Jo.

 

They go to dinner after that, and Nate spends half of it with his face pressed into Jo's neck. Sometimes he's not even saying anything, just pressing a kiss to Jo's throat, inhaling the smell of Jo's shampoo. He's clingy and he's touchy and Jo is so stupidly grateful for this borrowed time. He's grateful for his hand on Nate's thigh, Nate's arm, lazy across Jo's shoulders, and he's  _ so _ grateful when Nate pushes inside him that night.

" _ Fuck _ ," he exhales, and his forehead dips, pressing against Jo's own. "God. So good. So good, every time, Jo."

"Move," Jo orders, tilting his jaw up to catch Nate's mouth on his. And Nate does as he's told, because he'll do whatever Jo tells him. "Good, Nate, feels so good," he murmurs, once Nate's got a rhythm.

"Yeah?" Nate asks, and he sounds almost hopeful, because all he's ever wanted is to make Jo happy.

And he makes Jo  _ so  _ happy, about five minutes later, with his tongue in Jo's mouth and his hand wrapped around Jo's dick.

They lie together after that, messy and sweaty and sticky, and Jo has to close his eyes, because sometimes it feels so  _ nice,  _ having Nate by his side, it hurts. 

 

It's a different kind of hurt, though, when that last win doesn't mean anything, and Nate has to talk to the press while he's looking so  _ broken _ , because what he did, everything he did, wasn't enough. And Nate's never handled that well. 

Jo watches the whole press conference, because he knows Nate would do the same. And Jo's boiling inside, because this is so  _ stupid,  _ and now they'll have to leave it all behind. Their borrowed time is up. He won't see Nate until October, November, and they'll have to remember each other like this - disheartened, discouraged, and a little bit heartbroken.

They spend the next morning packing, because packing the night before would have been really fucking depressing. Jo hadn't really ever unpacked, because that felt a little too much like hope. But Nate - Nate's practically moved in, and it takes him a long time to gather up his shit.

So Jo just kind of watches, listens, as Nate rambles and packs, and it feels a little too much like the morning after the draft. They'd woken up exhausted and a little hungover, and even though everything they were had been affirmed, Jo was still nervous. Anyone can say  _ forever _ . 

Every year, Jo is nervous. He knows Nate loves him. He knows Nate wouldn't leave. He knows that. But each day, the distance between them seems a little bit farther, and Nate's just - Jo can't reach across the bed for him. Jo's spoiled every time he's able to.

"I'm gonna miss you," Jo says in a rare lull of silence. "Not to be, like, a downer."

"Goal  _ not  _ achieved," Nate's smiling, but it's still sad.

Jo smiles back. He knows it looks all wrong. "I mean it."

"I know you mean it," Nate says, after a minute. "I'll miss you, too. I already kind of do."

 

And so the season starts. It's never as hard as it seems in the weeks before that first game. They're still Skyping all the time, and Tyson starts Snapchatting Jo all these awful, sincerely unflattering videos of Nate rapping on the way to practice in the morning. Jo's still not sure exactly  _ how  _ he fell in love with  _ that _ , but he's here now. And he thinks it's a little cute.

They talk on the phone all the time, doing the stupidest shit. More than once, Tyson has picked up, and he and Jo have chatted about how annoying Nate gets when he's hungry. More than once, they've been alone and a little drunk, and that really only ends one way. And every time, Nate tells Jo that he loves him, and Jo says it back.

They're the real deal, Jo and Nate. They know that. They won't quit on each other. They'll have each other until the end.

**Author's Note:**

> I missed the WC, so I wrote this to make myself feel a little better. This was also supposed to go in a completely different direction, but I hope you like this, too!
> 
> Title is from Walk the Moon's "Portugal," which is an awesome song about growing up with the person you love (aka, everything my little boyfriends-since-juniors heart adores!).


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